The Thought Graves

The walls are made of stone and metal. I walk down a corridor with branching paths that lead to rooms, each room filled with coffins.   The further I go, the darker it gets. It's near pitch black by the time I reach the command center. I notice the light first, a blinding white that hurts as my eyes try to adjust   I hear a voice, angry and bitter. It echoes down the hall as I creep closer to the threshold.   As I peek inside, I notice a glare from the wall, a camera. I freeze as the lens opens and narrows. The bunker is alive, dormant but aware.   I hear the voice again, louder than before. I can even make out what he says, "Yes, I give my consent. Why aren't you working?"   I remember the message from my visions. Maybe it was never me at the console. On a hunch, I look at the lens and nod. I feel it, a rush of heat that starts in my head and passes through my entire body. Caesar, I think to myself, That's your name, right? It hears me. The lens flutters as if responding. It can hear my thoughts.   I see the man in the command center, a human fumbling at what appears to be a console made of jet black stone. "Caesar?" The man says with a laugh. "If that's what you want to be called." The man raises his hand over the big red button.   It's now or never. What should I say? How do I say it? Should I say anything at all? Maybe I could try something I haven't seen? As the options present themselves, I can see the events unfold in my mind. Only one option leads to my survival… and it makes me sick.

I don't know, just do something.
"Stop," I shout.

The man turns around and stares at me with narrowed eyes. "You? Of all those they could send, they sent you?"   "I don't understand," I reply.   The man laughs and rubs his temples. "I'm sorry. You didn't have to follow me. You could have escaped."   Wait... I've seen this before. Oh no.   Before I can react, the man raises a pistol and fires. I feel myself being pushed back. I feel pain. I see the blood burst out, painting the walls, the floors, and even my visor. I stumble. The pain fades as my heart races. I look down and a massive chunk of my stomach is gone. All color fades, my vision blurs, and soon after I find myself in a serene, black void.

  Keep the element of surprise.
I aim the rifle and shoot.

I raise the rifle and aim for the back of the man's head, but I can't fire. I want to, and I know I have to, but I can't. I don't want to be a killer.   I take in a deep breath through my nose and it breaks the silence. The man spins around, reaching for the pistol at his side. I fire.   This is new. I haven't seen this particular chain of events before. I don't like it.   The round lands squarely in his chest. The force sends him backward. His body hits the terminal, pushing the button.   The bunker rumbles all around me as I drop the rifle. I guess I'm more like mom than I thought…   I hear a loud crack and feel a rush of pain. Blood bursts from my stomach and I'm thrown back further down the hall. The man spent his dying moments paying me back. Lucky.   The man coughs and tries to stand, using the console for support. "Sometimes it takes more than one shot, little girl. Sorry."   I feel cold. The color drains from the world around me. My vision blurs. I can't keep my eyes open. Funny… I can't feel the pain anymore. It's like falling asleep…

  Use that bounty hunter voice, Amber.
I aim my rifle. "Don't move."

The man freezes, his hands tremble as he slowly turns away from the console. "I was wondering when you'd turn up."   Wait. I've seen this before but he never said that. "Excuse me?" I reply.   Ne nods, his eyes wide with wonder and fear. "I've seen you in my dreams. So many different scenarios, but I don't think I've seen this one."   Does he have the dreams, the visions? That makes sense. What if he can see the possibilities just like me? I think he's making choices too. He's right. I haven't seen it either. Is that the secret? Do something different? "Step away," I command, "let's both leave alive. I think that would be best, don't you?"   "No," the man replies. He spins around and slams his hand on the button.   The bunker rumbles as I try to line up a shot. I've seen this... but it was from his perspective. My memory stirs, eden tech is the best.   It takes only a moment, a single realization that guides my aim to the left side of the room. The man dodges to the side. Space warps around him. He moves like a blur, the motion propelling him nearly twenty feet from where he was and right into the sights of my rifle.   My finger twitches against the trigger, a moment of hesitation that resists a fully committed squeeze. A twitch is enough. The rifle fires all the same.   There's a white flash and a loud crack. The man is smiling when the round hits him in the chest. The expression fades to wide eyes and a slack jaw. The blood slowly pours from the wound, pooling at his feet as he stumbles backward.   I can't move. I'm just as shocked as he is. "No," I shout. "I'm sorry."     He's reaching for something, the pistol. I pull the trigger with tears flowing down my face. Sometimes it takes more than one shot. He falls backward, dead before even hitting the ground.   I hold my breath as if waiting for him to stand back up. No. This isn't me. I'm not a killer. The truth begs to differ. I guess I'm more like mom than I thought I was.   Caesar speaks, and his words filter through the translator with ease. "Thought Grave operational…"